


I Can Hear You (Were You Lonely?)

by Neva_Borne



Series: Zutara Drabble December [6]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Agni Kai, Angst, Coma, Cute, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Fluff Drabble, Fluff and Angst, Healing, Not Giving Up, One Shot, Post-Agni Kai, Zutara, soft, you know why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:22:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27916702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neva_Borne/pseuds/Neva_Borne
Summary: Zuko hasn't woken up since being injured during the Agni Kai, but Katara refuses to give up hope.Written for Day 6 of Zutara Drabble December.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Zutara Drabble December [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035657
Comments: 4
Kudos: 71
Collections: ZK Drabble December 2020





	I Can Hear You (Were You Lonely?)

He could tell roughly the passage of time. There were long hours when there was almost no activity around his bed, no noise from people talking, no soft touches to his skin. Those times must be night, he figured, when everyone was asleep and nobody needed to check on him.

There were other times when the activity didn’t stop, when he was being poked and prodded, his eyelids opened and his eyes examined, his breathing checked. And always the words, “we don’t think he’s going to wake up.”

But he _was_ awake, and that’s what killed him, because he couldn’t tell them. His lips wouldn’t move, his whole body wouldn’t obey his desperate commands. 

But always the words from the healers were followed by _her_ telling them they were wrong.

“He’s in there,” she’d say, and her voice was so beautiful that he wanted to cry, “I know he is!”

And from day one, the girl just didn’t leave his bedside at night, and she was the only comfort he found in his isolated world. He could feel her presence, hear her breathing, and felt her cool hands wrap around one of his own. 

He wanted to wake up, fought viciously against the bands around his consciousness, the disconnect between his mind and his body. 

She talked to him, her clear voice drifting to him across the separation between them.

“We won, Zuko,” she whispered, squeezing his hand in hers. “We won, so you have to wake up because the world needs you.”

“I visited the turtleducks today.” She said the second night. “I think they miss you.”

“Iroh stopped by today,” she said the next night. “I’m glad you couldn’t see his face because it was heartbreaking, Zuko. He loves you so much.”

Weeks passed like this, with her telling him stories of what happened that day and holding his hand. And sometimes he could feel cool water on his chest, on his forehead, felt the surge of power that coursed through his body as she tried to heal him, tried to fix what was broken.

“The others left today,” she said one night, and he knew she was crying from the way her voice broke. “They tried to get me to go with them, but I couldn’t. I can’t leave you now. Not after you saved me. Not when this is my fault.”

_It’s not your fault._

_It’s not your fault._

It’s not your fault.

“Zuko?” The strained voice reached his ears, full of reluctant hope, of fear. “Did… did you say something?”

_Grab her hand._

_Grab her hand._

His fingers twitched, spasmed, clutched at her hand and held on desperately, and he could feel his heartbeat racing in his chest, something that hadn’t happened in all those weeks.

She stood, her hand still in his; he heard the stool fly backwards and crash to the ground in her haste.

“Zuko?!”

He swallowed with difficulty and forced his lips to move, to form the words he wanted to say.

“I said,” he managed, very slowly, each syllable feeling like molasses moving over his lips and tongue, “it’s not your fault.”

Her arms were around him in seconds, her head buried beneath his chin, and he could feel the sobs wracking her body as he slowly wrapped his arms around her and held her there, tears of his own streaming down his cheeks.

When she finally pulled away and he opened his eyes to look at her, she was as beautiful as he remembered, her dark hair framing her face in wild curls, her blue eyes glistening with tears and emotion.

“Everyone thought, I thought…” She took a breath. “We thought you were gone.”

He smiled wryly. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Katara.”

“You saved me.”

He just blinked at her.

“Why?”

“You know why.”

And he was right, because she was leaning back down to him and pressing her lips to his, dragging him closer in her desperation, her relief. And he kissed her back just as hard, because he didn’t want to lose her either.

\---

When people would ask, weeks, months, years later, about his time under the Cursed Sleep, they would always ask, “Were you lonely?”

And he would take his wife’s hand and smile down at her before answering, “No. I was never lonely.”

And she would smile back up at him, her blue eyes glistening.


End file.
